


Steve Rogers

by tonysangels



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 13:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15641274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonysangels/pseuds/tonysangels
Summary: A series of Steve Rogers one-shots. There isn't any particular order to these-just love for my favorite super soldier.





	1. Nightmare

Steve woke up in a cold sweat, gripping the sheets and shaking as his eyes flew open. Nausea rose in his throat, and he sat up slowly, choking back the vomit that threatened to spew from his mouth. He continued clenching the bed sheets, trembling as the image of Bucky falling off the train burned in his mind. Without another thought, the super soldier crept out of bed to peek into Bucky’s room, and the muscles in his body relaxed slightly upon the sight of his best friend sleeping soundly. Bucky stirred a little, feeling his friend’s eyes on him, but before he could try and comfort him, Steve slipped away to the kitchen.  

Steve poured himself some water, sighing as the cool liquid met his lips. The sensation grounded him and drew him out of the numbness from his nightmare. A few rooms away, he heard a familiar snore; he smiled as he remembered how loud you were when you slept. Suddenly, Steve found himself crawling into your bed. The feeling of unfamiliar arms wrapping around your waist jolted you awake, and you forced Steve away from you and onto his back. You blinked in confusion upon seeing the startled and red-eyed super soldier underneath you.

“Steve!” You released your grip and hugged him. “Honey, I’m so sorry, you scared me—”

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

You were surprised by his question, almost nervous that Steve had suggested this. The two of you had shared a bed several times before, but it was usually in the heat of a moment after dates or long periods of time away from each other after missions. The two of you were exploring a relationship, but it hadn’t progressed to sleeping together every night. You didn’t want to push him, and he appreciated the fact that you were going steady with him. You weren’t sure why he was suggesting spending the night, but you didn’t question it. Without another word, you let him crawl into the space next to you, cradling him and stroking his hair.  

The tension in his body finally melted away, and his eyes grew heavy as he breathed the comforting lavender scent on your shirt. You began to hum softly, and Steve curled up against your chest, mumbling that he loved you before gently drifting into sleep.

The next morning, Steve stirred, and he was delighted to find himself still nuzzled against your shirt. Your beauty left him in awe, and he couldn’t help but study your face as you slept, and the way strands of your hair fell across your eyes. You started to stir a little too, smiling when you saw a pair of drowsy blue eyes gazing into your own.  He curled up against your chest once more, and your heart soared at the sight of him retreating under the covers and nuzzling against your body. You chuckled to yourself before joining him under the fluffy blankets.  

“Good morning, super soldier.”

Steve kept his eyes closed in hopes that you would join him to stay in bed that day. Much to Steve’s disappointment, you giggled and eventually stood up and made your way to the bathroom. You scoffed at Steve’s pleas for get back in bed, and instead pecked his pouted lips before getting ready for yet another day in the laboratory with Tony. The super soldier grumbled as he left the bed to prepare for a mission with Natasha.

That night, you and Steve slept in your respective rooms, and Steve found it increasingly difficult to sleep. Within the past few months, you gradually had undergone training in hand to hand combat as well as training with various weaponry. Now that Tony no longer confined you to a laboratory in the towers, you were finally able to take your part with the team. Of course, Steve was thrilled to see you at his side during missions, but every time you were knocked to the ground during a mission, his stomach churned. Lately, you always ended up being okay; you even ended up being the one saving others from grave injury during your last mission. Still, the possibility of you being injured, captured, or tortured because of enemy forces consumed Steve’s thoughts late at night.  

Fatigue from that morning’s mission eventually caught up with Steve, and he drifted off to yet another nightmare. The clouded imagery still felt so real, and in this nightmare, you were the one falling from the train, just as Bucky had. However, in this new dream, you fell in slow motion repeatedly, and every time he thought the nightmare was finally over, the same image tortured his thoughts. The echoes of your cries as you fell down the icy mountain drove him to wake with his own startled shouting.  

Nausea had taken the best of him, and he ran to the bathroom just in time. Anxiety trembled throughout his body, and the heaving from vomiting exhausted him even further. Tears stung his eyes as his head hung low in the toilet, shaking and waiting for the tremors to end. Another surge of nausea wracked his body, and he hissed as the vomit burned his throat once more.  

You were jolted from your sleep as the horrid sounds echoed from the bathroom. You rushed to the bathroom, ready to shout instructions to FRIDAY if further medical attention was needed. Your breath hitched upon seeing Steve in a heap on the bathroom floor, gagging and shuddering uncontrollably. After running a wet towel under warm water, and you wiped his forehead gently. Taking a seat on the floor behind him, you rubbed his back gently and prayed he was okay.  

Steve suddenly felt extremely vulnerable that you were seeing him like this. Even though you both had seen worse injuries during missions together, he somehow felt a twinge of embarrassment. His muscles relaxed slightly under your touch and the warm towel, and the nausea seemed to subside as he came to his senses and remembered that the nightmare was simply just that—a dream. Finally, he leaned against you and sighed.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay…what’s going on?”

The super soldier fiddled with the towel that you had brought him. He ached to tell you, but at the same time, he did not want to burden another soul about his trauma. Bucky tried to have these conversations with him, but it often ended in awkward silence. The two best friends had endured enough for a lifetime and bringing up the ghosts of their old lives was not exactly pleasant. There was almost a silent agreement that they would check on each other when the trauma became too much to bear, but there was no further discussion after the episode subsided.  

“I—I can’t tell you.”

You nodded, slowly rising to your feet and helping the soldier up. There was no reason to bother him and make endure the nightmare again.  “Okay. Let’s go to bed.”

Before returning to sleep, you gently cleaned up the mess and made sure to get clean clothing for Steve. He found refuge against your chest again, and his breathing gradually slowed as he heard you humming softly once more. Steve’s arms wrapped around your waist, and he sighed happily. You waited for a few extra minutes to make sure his breathing was steady before you finally let your eyes close.  

The next morning took a different turn of events as you woke to the sound of Steve shouting once more. The man beside you writhed out of his nightmare in a panic, eyes wide with anxiety and fear. You held his face in your hands, trying to steady him back to reality. Immediately, Steve’s heart rate slowed, and he sighed upon seeing you clearly. A soft, sleepy smile spread across his lips.

“(Y/N),” He slurred quietly, holding you hand. “Y-you’re okay.”

“Honey, of course I’m okay,” You replied softly. “Steve…what is going on?”

Steve sighed again, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on his brow. He couldn’t help but feel even more embarrassment as tears stung his eyes. The sight of him releasing a shaky sigh broke your heart, and you immediately wrapped your arms around him. Steve continued shaking in your arms, trying to speak amid his teary babbles.  

“You were on a train, and then you fell, but you just kept falling,” Steve said quickly. “I couldn’t save you.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”  

“The nightmares have been getting worse lately,” Steve confessed. “Buck and I, we used to talk about it, but then he started getting better after Shuri deprogrammed him and I… I’m just not there yet.”

“It’s going to be okay,” you said quietly. “But why didn’t you say anything before?”

Steve sighed. “The dreams used to be about Bucky falling off the train, but now, all my nightmares involve you. They just felt…silly.”

You squeezed his hand. “They are not silly. I’m glad you told me.”

He smiled at you through watery eyes. “Th-thank you. I really needed help.”

You kissed his forehead gently. The two of you finally settled back into bed, and again, you sang softly to lull the soldier into a peaceful sleep. Instead of joining him in his slumber, you stayed awake, watching his chest gently rise and fall. Guilt stirred inside of you, almost ashamed that you didn’t recognize Steve’s symptoms. After giving it some thought, you promised yourself that you would be more mindful of the trauma he and the others have surely faced over the past few years as a team.  

Over the next few weeks, the nightmares began to fade away. They did not magically disappear, but both of you agreed that it was time to address his trauma. You had discovered veterans group therapy sessions, where you accompanied Steve to meetings every week. Naturally, Steve was too humble and shy to tell his story at first, but he eventually found great relief in knowing that he was not the only one suffering from the ghosts of his past.  

At first, Steve was slipping into your room in the middle of the night, silently joining you and curling up in his favorite spot in your bed. You gladly obliged, stroking his hair and making sure he fell asleep before you let yourself drift back to your own slumber. Eventually, the two of you would make your way to the room together after a long day or after the end of a mission. If you had office work that Tony needed assistance with, Steve would stay awake late at night, waiting for you before settling to sleep.  

Every night, you sang the same tune that helped the veteran drift into a calm sleep, and you soothed him on the rare occasion that the trauma was too much to bear. Steve found refuge in your gentle embrace, and for once in his life, the familiar feeling of helplessness finally left him. For once in his life, he was not alone. He had you.


	2. The Right Moment

Steve had no idea what exactly drove him to ask the question. Maybe it was because Tony and Pepper finally tied the knot, and he was itching to do the same thing for the past year. Maybe it was just the right time, after dating for five years, and he just couldn’t wait anymore. Steve was always head-over heels for you, but he did not want to mess anything up. He wanted the moment to be absolutely perfect before asking for your hand.  

One morning, he found you in the kitchen preparing breakfast, headphones around your ears and swaying your hips to music while spilling waffle batter on the counter. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he saw you wearing his shirt and dancing around the towers like a fool. You eventually turned around and laughed once you were caught, and after hearing you laugh like that, he knew he had to ask. He always knew, but in that moment, he was about ready to get down on one knee right in the kitchen. But it wasn’t the right moment.

Of course, Tony was delighted that Steve asked him for advice on how to propose and what kind of ring to get. Suddenly, Natasha and Wanda appeared out of nowhere, clearly eavesdropping on the soldier’s conversation. In just a matter of minutes, the rest of the Avengers were gathered around in the living room, eagerly waiting for more information.  

“What kind of ring are you going to get her?” Wanda asked eagerly. “She has a certain kind of ring all over her Pinterest…” 

Steve flushed pink. “Sh-she does? Like she’s been thinking about weddings?” 

“Every girl has a wedding Pinterest board,” Wanda said with a scoff.  

She immediately went through her phone, showing Steve the several kinds of rings that you had pinned to your board. Steve marveled at the wedding dresses, rings, hair ideas, and venue ideas that you had saved. Natasha chuckled and patted Steve on the back. 

“She’s been waiting for, like, two years for you to ask.” 

Steve scoffed but immediately turned scarlet. “No way, she hasn’t been—” 

“She’s pinning new stuff on to these boards as we speak!” Wanda exclaimed, excitedly going through her phone once more.  

“Alright, alright, I think I was talking to Tony?” Steve said, clearing his throat. The others rolled their eyes before retreating to their rooms, and the two women were giggling to themselves as the super soldier continued to blush an intense pink. Tony clapped a hand on Steve’s back, getting ready to head out the door.  

“Come on, Cap. Let’s go find you a ring.” 

The employees at the jewelry store were ecstatic to see the two heroes entering, and Steve couldn’t help feeling flustered at the sight of the glittering diamonds. There were so many to pick from; part of him just wished that you had told him exactly what to buy. Even after seventy years, he knew that men were responsible for getting rings for their brides. Still, the sparkling jewelry made his head spin.  _Why was this the man’s job?_   _I don’t even know what to look for,_ Steve thought to himself.  _Women would definitely get a kick out of picking their own ring._  

Steve suddenly became very interested in the jewelry with sapphire stones. The navy gems brought caught his eye, and he remembered that your birthday was also in September. Tony scoffed at the super soldier, snapping Steve out of his fascination.  

“Women want diamonds, not birthstones,” Tony explained, pointing out the diamonds in front of him.  

“(Y/N)’s birthstone is sapphire,” Steve explained. “She wears that sapphire necklace that her dad bought for her—they both were born in September." 

Tony’s expression softened. He joined Steve, admiring the diamonds that were surrounded by sapphire gems. There was a modest ring that stuck out to Steve. It was a beautifully round cut diamond on a simple silver band, with sapphire gems on either side. The navy gem and diamond were quite the handsome pair, and Steve knew that he had to get that ring. The woman who sold the ring to Steve looked on with longing, as if slightly upset that America’s sweetheart was finally going to be off the market.  

The two finally returned to the towers, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat upon seeing you fast asleep on the couch. His gasp startled you out of your nap, and you soon fell to the floor. He rushed to your side, chuckling nervously as you came to your senses.  

"You okay, doll?" 

You sighed. "I’m okay, Steve. Are you okay?" 

Steve suddenly became very aware of the little black box that was hidden in his pocket. His hand immediately shifted inside, making sure it was well out of sight. You narrowed your eyes curiously, glancing at his hand. 

"I’m okay,” Steve said softly, kissing your cheek gently. “You’re home late." 

You relaxed into the couch once more, too tired to acknowledge Steve’s odd behavior. "I know. It was so busy at the hospital today.”

"You poor thing,” Steve teased, pouting his lips. You glared at him. 

“I am a poor thing,” You whined. “I was supposed to work 12 hours, but I worked 20." 

At first, Tony rolled his eyes as you two snuggled on the couch. Still, he had become a rather hopeless romantic since his own wedding with Pepper, so he left you alone. With a wink, Tony retreated to his office, secretly scheming to get Steve’s proposal in motion.  

You sighed, leaning against the super soldier, your eyes heavy with fatigue. Wrapping your arms around your waist, you were surprised to feel a small box in the pocket of his jacket. You were just to grab it until Steve gripped your wrist, eliciting a sharp cry in pain.  

"Steve!" 

He immediately released his grip, grimacing at the red mark around your wrist. "I’m sorry, but wh-why are you grabbing in my pocket?" 

"I just felt something when we were cuddling, why are you being so weird?” You retorted. 

Steve flushed a horrendous pink shade. “I—nothing, I’m not being weird." 

You raised your eyebrows. "Okay then…I’m going to nap in my room, since you’re being a weirdo. I’ll see you later." 

Steve groaned to himself once you left the room. He pulled out the little black box once more, turning it in his hands and growing increasingly nervous about his plan. It wasn’t anxiety about marrying you—he knew in his heart that you were the one he wanted to spend of his life with. There was an increased pressure to have a grandiose gesture for an engagement, and Steve found this unspoken rule to be quite nerve wracking. The twenty-first century had its perks, but this expectation left Steve extremely nervous.  

As if by cue, the Avengers gathered around Steve, harassing the poor veteran to reveal the surprise within the little black box. Natasha and Wanda could not suppress their squeals upon seeing the diamond shining beautifully. 

"So, Cap, I have a plan,” Tony said proudly. “It’s the perfect proposal." 

The next few days were filled with planning the perfect opportunity for a proposal. The entire team was involved in making sure the night went perfectly, and soon, the day had come.  

Steve was a bit hesitant on the plan. It was well thought out, luxurious, and perfectly romantic, but part of him couldn’t help feeling like it was how Tony would propose to you. It was a weird thought to have, but as he went over the plan in his mind, he only enjoyed one part of it—the end.  

Tony had planned an extravagant party celebrating the five-year anniversary of your involvement in the Avengers. Guests from all over the world were invited, and your colleagues were quite surprised to receive an invitation to the luxurious Stark Towers. That morning at the hospital was hectic enough, but the real buzz that day was the gossip over the party that evening. The excitement continued as Steve stopped by to visit, creating quite the stir among the staff and patients.  

At the hospital, you were busy charting information on the new patients, quickly scribbling before hearing murmurs around echoing around the station. You smiled upon finding Steve holding up a vase full of pink roses and a paper bag in his hands.  

"I’m looking for a Dr. (Y/L/N)?” Steve said playfully to your coworker, Cristina. Her eyes widened when she looked up from her iPad, nearly throwing it on the ground in surprise. She stammered something unintelligible to you, as if not realizing that Steve was just teasing you both.  

You rolled your eyes, standing up from your place behind the nurses’ station. “What brings you here, super soldier?" 

He leaned over the counter, sighing as his lips met yours. "You left in a rush, so I made you lunch. I also saw these flowers on the way here, and I couldn’t resist treating you. Today is all about you, of course." 

"You didn’t have to,” You said, feeling blush creep on your cheeks. “And this whole party with Tony, you know, I adore him, but he might be overdoing it this time." 

"He just wants to celebrate you, you’ve done a lot for us since you’ve been part of the team,” Steve insisted. “Plus, who doesn’t love a Stark Party?" 

Cristina nodded. "Are you seriously turning down a Stark party? You’re depriving everyone in the ER unit a wonderful party if you cancel." 

"I guess I’ll keep the party going just because you asked,” You said with a smile.  

“Anyways, doll, I’ll see you later,” Steve said with a charming smile. Your heart melted at the sight of him, and part of you wanted to sneak the soldier into the break room for a few hours. Eventually, Steve left the building, leaving you with a longing sigh. Even after five years, you were still swooning over America’s heartthrob.  

“I hate you,” Cristina muttered. “Your boyfriend is freaking Captain America, you’re one of the best residents here at this hospital, and your side job is saving the world." 

You returned home a later than expected, rushing home and throwing on clothes and makeup to make it in time for Tony’s speech. While smoothing out your dress in the mirror, a familiar blonde peeked out from behind you and whistled. 

"Red was made for you,” Steve said in awe. “You look gorgeous." 

You smiled and turned around, wrapping your arms around the well-dressed super soldier. When you snuck kisses onto his neck, Steve couldn’t suppress the soft moan that left his mouth. He sighed, wrapping his arms around your torso. 

"Let’s ditch the party,” he pleaded, sliding his hands down your waist. 

“Easy there, tiger,” you giggled. “If you behave, maybe you’ll get lucky tonight." 

Steve flushed pink, suddenly remembering the plan for tonight. "Yeah, doll. Maybe." 

You looped your arm with Steve’s, and together, the two joined the party and mingled with the rest of the guests. Steve smiled to himself as you seemed to mimic Tony’s flair for charming guests and keeping everyone entertained; you radiated happiness with everyone you spoke to. Seeing you like this only made his affection for you grow.

Tony cleared his throat, his voice booming over the banquet hall. "Is this thing on…?" 

The guests murmured softly, eventually reaching silence as Tony clapped his hands together.  

"Thank you all for being here! I know many of you who work at the hospital with (Y/N) are probably checking your pagers and praying you’re not on call tonight. I just wanted to acknowledge the determination…" 

The sound of Tony’s voice soon faded away, and Steve could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He shifted his glance to you, smiling and rolling your eyes whenever Tony made a cheesy joke. He almost felt sick to his stomach, and the box in his pocket was practically burning a hole in his jacket. All the eyes in the room turned to Steve, and he suddenly realized that Tony was calling him out to give a toast. 

His stomach dropped. Still, he mustered the energy to raise his glass of champagne. 

"T-to (Y/N),” Steve said, forcing a smile. “You are one of the brightest and strongest people I know. That means a lot, considering we have a Hulk and a god of thunder in the room." 

Laughter spread throughout the room, and Steve relaxed a little. He locked eyes with Tony for a moment, and suddenly, a new plan popped into his mind.  

"Ever since you came to this group, all of our lives have been improved,” Steve continued. “You bring us down to earth, and you never fail to make sure we feel safe during missions. I have to thank you for saving my life the day I met you, otherwise I might not have been standing here in front of you. Here’s to you, doll. I hope you enjoyed the last five years with us, and I hope you continue to inspire us with your intelligence, bravery, and hope. Cheers to you!" 

The room erupted with applause, and you bit your lip, trying not to let tears roll down your face. The teammates around the table were slightly confused, not understanding why Steve had deviated from the original plan of a proposal after his toast. Still, everyone took a sip of the champagne and enjoyed the rest of the night. While the party continued, Steve grabbed your hand and snuck you away to the balcony. 

You leaned against the super soldier, sighing as they looked across the city of New York.  

"You know, the view of the stars sucks in New York." 

Steve laughed. "Should have asked Tony to make the stars brighter for your party. He would have done it."  

"Ha." 

Steve pressed his lips to your forehead, unable to take his eyes off you. The glow of the city only added to your beauty. He never wanted to forget how you looked under the night sky. 

"Your toast was really sweet,” you said, intertwining your fingers with his. “I can’t believe you brought up the time I saved your life when the team came crashing into the hospital.”

“Hey, I was just telling the truth. The team wouldn’t be the same without you, and I wouldn’t be here standing with the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“You’re so cute. I love you.” 

"I love you, too."  

Anxiety crashed over Steve, and he hoped that he wasn’t showing it. He was thankful that you failed to notice the pink that rose to his cheeks, and instead continued to look across the horizon. 

"You changed my life, you know,” Steve began. “From the moment I met you, I knew that were going to change my world." 

You smiled. "Is that so, Rogers?" 

Steve nodded, becoming slightly embarrassed. "I know that I jumped the gun when I said I love you after pretty quickly—" 

"Three weeks!” You teased. 

“Oh, hush,” Steve replied. “But I don’t regret it. I already knew that I loved you. You are my best friend, and I never want to leave your side. You are everything to me, (Y/N). I truly have no idea where I would be without you." 

You looked at him curiously, surprised to find tears forming in his eyes. Gently, you held his face in your hands, kissing hips lips softly. "What is going on with you, super soldier?" 

Steve sighed, slowly getting down on one knee. Your eyes widened when Steve reached into his coat pocket and held a small black box.  

"I’ve been waiting for the right moment, and I think this a pretty good one, right?" 

"Steven Grant Rogers, what the hell are you doing?" 

"Asking my best friend to marry me." 

"Steve—" 

"I’m not done, doll.” He opened the box, revealing the breathtaking diamond and the navy gems beside it. Your breath caught in your throat, but you kept quiet, praying that this wasn’t a dream. Tears formed in your eyes upon realizing that the sapphire gems perfectly matched your late father’s necklace. 

“Listen, I love you so much. I wanted to get married right away, within the first year that I met you. But you were off practicing to be one of New York’s finest doctors, and I didn’t want to get in your way. I wanted you to have everything you wanted, so I waited. Honestly, I would wait forever for you, if it meant I could be your husband one day. So… would you make me the luckiest guy alive let me be your husband?" 

He looked up at you, realizing that his hands were shaking. He cursed himself quietly, wondering why he suddenly felt so timid when he had faced far more nerve-wracking situations than this.  

"Yes! Oh, my God, yes." 

Steve let out a breathy laugh, almost in disbelief with your answer. He was barely able to get the ring on your finger before you grabbed him by the shirt collar and pressed your lips against his. He was sure that you could hear his heart beating out of his chest, but he didn’t care.  

The two of you pulled away abruptly upon hearing the loud crack of fireworks in the distance. You grinned as the New York city skyline was glowing with an array of your favorite colors, and the light only seemed to make the ring shine even brighter. While you were admiring your ring, you noticed something all too familiar about it. Steve’s stomach lurched.

"Is this…is this one of the rings I pinned on Pinterest?" 

Steve flushed pink. "W-Wanda and Nat said that you really liked those kinds of rings, and then Tony and everyone else agreed—" 

"Everyone else?” You asked with a smile. “What are you talking about?" 

"Well, Cap, did she say yes?" 

Both of you spun around in surprise to find the rest of the team peeking from the balcony doors. Tony raised his glass, waiting for an answer from Steve. The super soldier blushed again, glancing at you in slight embarrassment. You couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s modesty and humility, and you gently pressed your lips against Steve’s. You held up your hand, showing the glittering ring.  

"Yes!" 

Wanda and Natasha squealed in unison, rushing over you. The men gathered around Steve, clapping their hands on his shoulders in congratulation. The women took endless pictures, insisting that every picture was important for you to post on social media the next day.  

"Alright, enough pictures,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. “Don’t you think this party needs more champagne and more dancing?" 

Of course, Tony continued his extravaganza, announcing that you both had just been engaged, and somehow, Tony outdid himself once more. Fireworks continued to boom outside the towers, and Tony had cleared the tables to reveal a DJ and an enormous dance floor. The guests immediately rushed to the dance floor, and you dragged the rest of the team to dance like fools.  

Feeling bold after a few songs and one too many glasses of champagne, you led Steve back to their table. You leaned in and kissed his cheek gently, letting your lips linger on his skin. Steve tried to sit still, but you smiled against his cheek as you felt him shiver. 

“I wanna ditch the party,” You whispered, sliding your hand up his thigh.  

Steve chuckled softly. “It’s almost over, I think you can handle another hour.” 

“I know, but I think it would be fun to… _celebrate_ our engagement,” You said softly while nipping at his earlobes. “I think it’s time for bed, Steve.” 

Steve stifled a moan and cleared his throat. He immediately stood up, knocking over his chair and blushing. You giggled as the super soldier grabbed your hand and led you to elevator and back to the bedroom. The moment the bedroom door closed, Steve swept you off your feet and tossed you onto the bed, eliciting a delighted squeal. You sighed as Steve pressed his lips to yours. You held his face in your hands, admiring your handsome fiancé and his twinkling blue eyes. 

“I love you.” 

Steve smiled. “I love you more.” 


	3. Baby Fever

Steve  _loved_ babies.  

He never thought he would come to love babies. They were so fragile, they cried quite often, and he didn’t know a single thing about taking care of one. After the getting out of the ice, he never thought he’d want a family. Before he met you, he never thought he’d want to settle down or even get married. However, after meeting Clint’s family and the arrival of Nathaniel, Steve ached for his own child.  

Of course, after you and Steve had gotten married, Steve finally started the conversation. Or rather, he tried to.

It quite adorable really; the two of you were spending a lazy Saturday in the compound. Steve’s head rested in your lap as you laid in bed with medical journals; his fingertips gently caressed your stomach as he mustered up the courage to finally ask.

“(Y/N)?”

“Steve.”

“Do you ever wonder what we’ll be up to in the next five years? Or ten years?”

You sat up a little. “I think maybe we’ll have our own house. Get out of the compound. Settle down upstate, maybe. I don’t know if Tony will ever let me take you out of this place.”

“Do you ever think about anyone else living in our house?” He asked quietly.  

“It would be just me and you,” You replied, barely looking up from the paper. “Maybe some dogs, cats if you like them. Why? Did you want Bucky living with us?”

The warmth from Steve’s body against yours suddenly disappeared, and you were surprised to find the super soldier leaving the room with a frown on his face.

“Steve!” You called out. “Oh, honey, I was only joking!”

You searched the compound for Steve, but he was nowhere to be found. After checking his own room, Tony’s laboratory, the gym, you sighed. Baffled, you went to the kitchen, where she found Bucky and Natasha.  

“Have you guys seen Steve?” You asked. “He was just here with me, but now I can’t find him.”

“He said something about going to Barton’s,” Natasha replied, “The kids needed babysitting for a bit while Laura is out.”  

You plopped down at the dining table with them. “He’s always over there. I’m so surprised that he likes babysitting.”

Natasha smiled. “Aren’t you a baby doctor? Isn’t it your career to enjoy babies?”

“I help the babies come out, but I don’t always love the parts that come after,” You explained, “which is why I’m surprised that Steve is there so much whenever Laura or Clint need a sitter. Anyways, I’ll go over to the Bartons.”

Sure enough, as you arrived at the house, one of Tony’s cars was parked in the driveway. As you were approaching the front door, another car parked and revealed an exhausted mother with groceries in her arms. She sighed in relief as you rushed over to her and caught the paper bags that threatened to slip from her grasp.  

“(Y/N), it is always so wonderful to see you,” she said with a warm smile. “Although, I think I’m seeing more of Steve here these past few weeks.”

“I know, that’s why I’m here,” you replied, “I feel like I’m always having to chase him out of your house, Laura.”

“Oh, we don’t mind. Come on in, I’ll get dinner going. You’re welcome to stay.” She opened the door and laughed as two children came barreling towards her. After bombarding their mother with hugs, Cooper and Lila grabbed you with sticky hands and led you to the playroom.  

Your heart swelled at the sight of Steve fast asleep with Nathaniel on his chest. The infant curled his fingers around Steve’s thumb, and both began to stir as the other two climbed on the couch. Nathaniel, upset by the sudden noise and movements, whined in Steve’s arms—the super soldier hushed and cooed in the baby’s ear. As he stood up, the smile on his face fell as his eyes met yours.  

“Hey, Ste—”

“Why are you here, (Y/N)?” The sharpness in his voice dug into your heart.

“I was looking for you, and Natasha told me you’d be here,” you explained, reaching for his free hand. “You also left in such a rush, I just thought—”

“The kids needing babysitting, that’s all. I didn’t need to explain myself.” He took a step back, and the simple yet heartbreaking action took the air from your lungs.

A knot formed in your throat, but the awkward silence in the playroom was interrupted with Laura asking for help with dinner prep in the kitchen. Part of you wanted to be angry with Steve; his behavior was completely uncalled for. Still, the way he avoided your eyes felt like knives in your chest, and you were fighting back tears as you joined Laura.

“Do you mind cutting those potatoes for me, sweetheart?”  

You nodded wordlessly, and Laura sighed.  

“He really loves playing with Nathaniel,” Laura began, “I know he’ll never say he has a favorite Barton, but he adores Nathaniel.”

You managed a smile. “I know. Steve sends me selfies with Nathaniel all the time.”

“He’s really great with the kids,” Laura continued, “They love him, he loves them.”

Suddenly, Lila and Cooper were sprinting down the halls, squealing in excitement as Steve followed them around the house, Nathaniel giggling wildly in his arms. Steve caught your eyes, smiling briefly before chasing the children again. You chuckled to yourself, wondering what Steve would be like with your own kids.  

_Shit, he wants to have kids. That’s why he’s upset._

The realization distracted you for a moment, causing you to cut into your finger a little as you chopped potatoes. You shrieked in surprise as the potatoes were stained with your blood.  

“(Y/N), are you—”

“I’m fine, Laura, I’m sorry.” You rinsed the potatoes off before turning to her again. “I need to talk to Steve, I’ll be back.”

“Go on dear, I’ll manage.”

As you returned to the play room, Steve had turned on a Disney movie and gathered up the children in his arms. Your heart melted at the sight of Nathaniel in his lap and Lila and Cooper on either side of him, snuggling up against Steve for warmth. Steve was surprised to see you draping blankets over the four of them, and Lila eagerly dragged you to the couch to join them in enjoying  _Beauty and the Beast._

“This is our favorite movie!” Lila said happily.  

You smiled, stroking her hair softly. “Of course, Lila! I love Princess Belle.”

Steve had his arm draped over Lila, but he extended his touch to you, softly caressing your arm as the five of you finished up the movie. Just as the credits played, Clint had returned, and Laura had called everyone in for dinner. She smiled as she took Nathaniel into her arms; the infant was sound asleep.

“I swear, I should hire you as a permanent nanny for him,” Laura teased. “Not even Clint can get him asleep this quickly.” Clint rolled his eyes at this, scoffing as he took his son from Laura’s arms.

Laura left you and Steve alone in the play room, and you fiddled with the bandage on your finger. Steve took a step closer, taking your hand.  

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s dangerous to cut potatoes, you know. You should watch out.”

He chuckled. “I’ll be careful when I make dinner tomorrow night.”

You sighed and leaned into him. “Steve, listen, about earlier this afternoon—”

Steve slowly took you into his arms, kissing your forehead gently. “I should be the one who’s apologizing, doll. I was just getting all excited because I’ve been watching Nathaniel, and I wanted to have the same experience with you, and I just…”

He trailed off, looking into your eyes and sighing. “I love you so much, that’s all. I know you’re busy being a doctor and chasing everyone in the Towers, but I—I want a baby. I want to have a baby with you, I want to start our life. What do you say, doll?”

You smirked. “I guess we’ll have to get started on that, wouldn’t we?”

~

“I cannot  _believe_ you picked Barnes to be godfather over me,” Tony scoffed. “Did Barnes hire you to run his medical department for his company? Didn’t think so. I swear to God, if I have to fight someone over baby number two—”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Can you be careful of who you’re swearing to? We’re in a church, Tony.”

Tony rolled his eyes and leaned down to your baby’s eye level. The infant looked at Tony curiously, grabbing his glasses and studying them for a moment. Much to your amusement, Tony did not flinch and let the child play with the glasses.  

“You better watch out, buddy,” Tony began, “before you know it, they’ll be bringing on another mini Rogers and kicking you out of the crib—”

Over your shoulder, you heard Steve laughing. He wrapped his hand around your waist, kissing your forehead gently.  

“You’re really gonna bring up the godfather thing now? On the day of the baptism?”

Bucky approached, looking rather dapper in a suit and his usually long hair tied up in a bun. “See, if you were his lifelong friend, both on the schoolyard and the battlefield, then you’d have first dibs on the godfather title.”

The billionaire scowled and held his hand out to the baby, waiting expectantly for his glasses. “Grant, kiddo, I’m going to need the glasses back.”

Grant babbled happily, extending his arms to Tony and whining to be held. Your heart melted when you say Tony beaming at the child as he gathered him in his arms.

“Does your godfather have fancy cars? Didn’t think so. See, Uncle Tony has plenty of cars you can pick from one day…”

You chuckled to yourself as you gathered up the baby bag and prepared to leave the church and join everyone at the Towers once more. At first, you were hesitant when Tony had insisted that the post-baptism celebration was to be held at the Towers, but your friends and family were definitely not complaining when they received an invitation to the luxurious building.  

Tony returned with Grant whining slightly; both of them looked rather defeated and frustrated.

“I tried to talk to him about switching over to me for godfather status, but I don’t think he liked that very much,” He said with a sigh. “I’ll see you at the Towers?”

You nodded as he kissed your cheek. “Thank you, Tony. See you later.”

Steve joined you in tidying up what was left in the church pews, and he brought Grant’s stroller. The super soldier’s face lit up upon seeing that Grant was whining for him; he gladly took the infant into his arms and cooed unintelligibly. You pressed your lips to both of your boys, and your heart swelled to see that both of them were beaming at you.  

“You two are the most handsome boys I’ve ever seen.”

Steve smirked. “Little fella sure does take after his old man.”

You leaned into him, sighing as you wrapped your arms around your boys. You felt Steve’s lips on your forehead. Grant babbled happily again, and you heard a soft sniffle echoing soon after. You looked up in surprise upon seeing the teary expression on Steve’s face. He immediately wiped his eyes with his free hand and sniffed again.

“Steve, honey, are you okay?”

He nodded and smiled. “’M fine. I just love you both so much. I finally got the beginning of my happy ending. I have Grant, and I have you.”


	4. Yours

Oh, midterm season. The library was somehow magically packed with students who had never entered the building before the dreaded week, and the university coffee places were flourishing as students struggled to keep their eyes open to pass.

After your morning classes, you found your usual spot in the library was taken; you grumbled as you settled for a desk with wobbly chair legs and years of scribbles. After getting your books out, you texted Natasha that you were ready to study.

_Be there in a minute, line at the café is so fuckin long omg._

_Everyone in this damn university is here at the library, so our table is kinda shitty. Sorry in advance._

You finally settled in, pulling out your review notes for organic chemistry with a sigh. The midterm for this class was supposed to be one of the hardest midterms within the science department, and you were not looking forward to it. This exam was also a week earlier than the rest of your midterms, for which you were kind of glad—more time could be spent studying to make sure you did well. Even though you excelled in the class, sometimes, it felt like every other spare moment was devoted to the damn subject.

Across the library, you noticed that the university librarian was hushing a rowdy group of football players. The others snickered quietly, but one blonde stood up and apologized with a sincere smile. The librarian seemed appeased for a moment, scolding them once more before returning to her desk.  

The blonde happened to be Steve Rogers, star quarterback of Stark University. He smiled upon seeing that you were glancing his way, and you immediately ducked down to your chemistry book, hoping he would stay put with the rest of the football team. You did not want to talk to him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. It was just the opposite, actually. He was annoyingly charming; it was genuine, not the usual nice guy façade that guys in college were always trying to pull. Professors seemed to light up with Steve raised his hand to answer questions, and many of the exchange students fell bewitched to the power that his smile held. There had be some flaw—you’d been pondering it for months—but he was a dream come true. All American poster boy and football star. What more do you need?

You hated it.

At least, you wanted to hate him, but it was damn near impossible because you two were sat right next to each other in your chemistry class. He was so sweet that it irritated you; it was almost too good to be true that he was asking how your day was, what you’d be doing after class. You were sure he was just bored and wanted female attention—he was rarely paying attention in class. Still, you couldn’t deny that you liked being the first one he spoke to the minute he sat down before lecture.  

Steve started walking toward you, and the sight of him bringing his backpack and books worried you. He was setting his backpack down, you were still alone, Natasha wasn’t back yet, and where the hell was that coffee—

“Y/N!” Steve said with a smile. “This seat taken?”

Suddenly you wished you’d picked a table that could only seat two people instead of four. You could only shake your head. “N-no. Go ahead.”

He smiled again. You felt like kicking yourself when warmth spread through your chest. The twinkle in his gorgeous blue eyes shouldn’t have made you weak in the knees, but God damn, it did every time.

“Cramming for Banner’s midterm?”  

“Not cramming,” you replied, “Been studying for the past week and a half. If I don’t get at least a B, I swear I might drop this class.”

Steve whistled. “You’re making me nervous. I haven’t started yet.”

“Steve. The midterm is on Thursday.”

“And?”

“It’s  _Tuesday_!”

“Oh, Y/N, have you no faith in me?” He rested his hand on yours for a moment, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. 

You hated him. You wanted to, at least. Who were you kidding?

Finally, you raised your eyebrows. “Last week, you were only there for one lecture, and you were sleeping through part of it.”

“I still answered Banner’s questions right. I’m the master of sleeping during class and keeping Banner happy.”

You rolled your eyes and turned down to your book. He poked you with his pencil, chuckling when he finally elicited a smile from you.

“Come on. You know you love me.”

God, you wanted to punch him. Right in his perfect teeth. It would definitely lessen the whole poster boy image he had going for him.

“Shut up and open your textbook, Rogers.”

Eventually, Natasha returned with the coffee, trying to hide her smirks every time Steve asked you a question about organic chemistry. You could feel Natasha kicking you under the table, but you carried on answering questions for him.  

It was around midnight that you decided your brain was fried for the night, so you and Natasha bid Steve goodnight and returned to your dorm. Natasha looped her arm with yours, a mischievous smile on her face.  

“Save it.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”

You sighed. “If you say something about Steve, I swear—”

“Girl, anyone with eyes can see that you are hot for Steve Rogers,” she scoffed. “I was going to say that it seems like Steve might be into you.”

“First of all, everyone is into Steve Rogers. Second…is it really that obvious, Nat?”

“Well, to everyone but him. He may be on the dean’s list, but he’s surprisingly oblivious, so you’re safe for now.”

You groaned as you reached the dorm. “I’m done talking about him. Goodnight.”  

~

A week after the midterm, Dr. Banner handed back your exams. You were delighted to see that there were very few red markings on your exam; simple mistakes here and there, but overall, a proud ‘A’ was marked next to your name. You glanced over at Steve, whose brows were furrowed together in disappointment. He felt your gaze and immediately turned to you with a sheepish smile on his face. A very disappointing 'F’ was marked next to his name.

“You were right. I should have studied earlier.”

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s plenty of time to get your grade up before the end of the semester—”

“Will you  _please_ tutor me? I’ll do anything. I need to get this grade up for my scholarship. Please.”

You should have said no. You had so many other classes to study for, you were a teacher assistant for a freshmen chemistry lab, there were days you were working at the library; you had almost no free time for yourself. It only took one look into Steve’s impossibly adorable blue eyes, and you were gone.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

The smile that spread across his face made your stomach drop, but you forced a smile in return as he thanked you another ten times before he made his way for anatomy lab. You could barely hear him as he put his number into your phone, and you wordlessly agreed to studying next week at the café.  

Shit.

~

Over the next few weeks, you went over the basics of organic chemistry with Steve. He was always a smart kid, but somehow, he had a million questions. He was constantly sending you text messages and calling you for help, insisting that he had to consult you before checking the text book. You didn’t mind them at first; his quiz grades were improving, and the last exam grade was a B minus. Steve, ever the gentleman, treated you to late night pizza and free coffee every time you got together. He had to pay you back somehow, and since he didn’t have campus jobs like you did, he spent a lot of his university meal plan treating you to whatever you liked.

You thought it would be easy. It didn’t matter if you liked him; you could handle this. All you had to do was be a good friend, answer his questions, help him pass the class, and this whole secretly-falling-for-the-damn-football-star debacle would end. Plain and simple.

The thing is, it wasn’t so plain and simple because Stark University’s star quarterback was falling head over heels for you.  

He didn’t think he would be. You were just the girl who was next in line for alphabetically coordinated seating in a class that he hated sitting through, yet there he was, using tutoring as an excuse to talk to you every chance he could. There were always other girls chasing after him; the same cheerleaders or foreign exchange students batting their eyes and offering spare pens and pencils in hopes for a little action. He was interested in one of the senior cheerleaders for a while—Jessica? Jennifer, maybe—but even in the moments where he stood in front of the girl’s dorms, ready to stay for the night, he remembered you. He would make up some horribly lame excuse before running out of the girls’ residence halls and pulling his phone out to text you about more chemistry.  

You hated that you found yourself calling and texting Steve the second his name lit up your phone. The two of you grew close as you tutored him, and you couldn’t deny that you were completely helpless when it came to Steve. Any time he needed you—you were speeding down the streets of your university to reach him.  

You especially hated the fact that one evening, you found yourself picking up the tipsy quarterback from a ridiculous frat party. Steve was stumbling down the steps of the house, smiling widely upon seeing you.

“Hey, doll face,” he slurred, “thanks for the ride back to main campus.”

You let out a sigh as you buckled him into the passenger seat. “You are an idiot.”

He smiled again. “But I’m your idiot. You’re so pretty, did you know that?”

Warmth flushed your cheeks as you shifted gears. “Shut up, Rogers. Drink some water.”

Steve hiccupped and giggled the entire ride back, muttering unintelligibly about carbon atoms as you dragged him up to his dorm. You rummaged through his drawers to find clean clothes that didn’t reek of cheap beer and vodka, throwing them at him and telling him to change. Once he was cleaned up a little, Steve held your face in his hands, grinning softly. His lips suddenly found yours, and you couldn’t pull yourself away. The kiss was filled with cigarettes, weed, and awful beer, but for a split second, you didn’t care. You let your fingers run through his hair, and you sighed happily against his lips.

Without warning, you were beneath Steve on his bed, growing breathless as he continued pressing his lips onto yours. A small voice was screaming in the back of your mind, nagging you to stop, but you ignored it as you felt Steve’s mouth on your neck. Your shirt was flying off in one direction while his varsity jacket flew in another, and his hands were everywhere. You craved more of his touch, and his hands gladly roamed your body, callused fingertips lighting your skin on fire.

“You are so damn beautiful,” he whispered against your skin. You took his face into your hands, kissing him roughly and eliciting a soft moan.  

Guilt suddenly twisted your stomach, and God, you wanted him so badly, it felt so good to have him on top of you, caressing your body and sucking the sweet spot on your skin—

It couldn’t happen like this. Not now. You sat up, straightening out your shirt and brushing the hair out of your face. Steve panted and looked at you in confusion. You grabbed your shirt from the floor, taking your phone and keys.

“I need to go.”

“Wait!”  

The dejected look on his face tore your heart in half. “Can you stay here tonight?”

You froze for a moment. “W-what?”

Steve pulled your hand, dragging you back under the sheets. “Bucky and Sam are still out at Gamma Delta Omega, or whatever the fuck they call themselves…I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re drunk,” you blurted out, moving away from the bed, “and I shouldn’t be—I can’t be—we can't—"

“It’s not that.“ His voice cracked a little, only further breaking your heart. “I’m all alone. I feel like shit—I just—I just want you to stay here. Okay?”

You sighed. “Steve, you’ll be okay. Just call me if you need me, Edward Hall is just a two-minute walk from yours. I’m going to my room now.”

Steve whined a little, flopping back into his bed in frustration. He mumbled your name a few times before closing his eyes and immediately falling fast asleep. You lingered for a while, getting a glass of water and some aspirin for him the next morning. After pulling blankets over him, you let out another sigh. He looked terrible—drool running down his chin, hair mussed from the girls at the party running their hands through it, reeking of alcohol and weed. Part of you still wished you joined him in bed, feeling his body on yours all night.  

But you couldn’t do that now. It wouldn’t be right.

So, you settled into the guys’ couch for a while, hushing Steve when he stirred and murmured your name. Once Bucky and Sam came stumbling through the doors around four a.m., you also made sure to leave out some water for them when the hangover came crashing down the next day.

~

The next morning, an excruciating headache pounded on Steve’s temples. He sat up slowly and was surprised to find some painkillers and water on his bedside. His stomach dropped as he remembered the end of this night after the frat party. He ran out of the room, hoping to find you in the main living area of the suite, but you were gone.  

And you kept it that way for a week.  

He knew he kissed you. Sure, he was drunk and didn’t remember a majority of the night at the frat house, but he did remember you. The feel of your lips on his, the taste of your skin, the way you moaned his name—he remembered it all. He knew he shouldn’t have done it the way he did: high and drunk, stumbling out of a frat house at your feet. But he did it anyway, and now, you were a ghost.  

You canceled your tutoring for a week. You went out of your way to go to a different organic chemistry lecture, getting notes from Natasha at the end of the day. You worked hours at the library that you knew Steve would be at football practice, and if you were in the science building at the same time he was, you hid in your lab room until you knew he’d be out of his anatomy lab. It was probably childish and stupid of you to be hiding, but how do you approach a guy that you almost had drunken sex with?

"He wants to talk to you,” Nat insisted one afternoon during your usual study session. “He’s been asking where you are, and I can’t keep lying anymore. Golden boy is super annoying when it comes to you.”

You groaned. “I can’t talk to him anymore, not after what happened. Besides, he’s probably not even thinking about me now, he was screwing Jennifer last week.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, studying in another part of the library that you never would go into. Still, it was away from your usual study area, and any place that Steve didn’t know was fair game for you. After several cups of coffee and a few brain-frying hours of studying, the two of you returned to your dorm. Rain was pouring softly against the windows, and the soft patter was only adding to your exhaustion. You were about to fall asleep when your phone buzzed. It was Steve.

_Hey, Y/N._

You ignored it, swiping the message away.

_You can’t keep doing this to me. This isn’t fair._

He was right, but you continued the silent treatment.

_I’m sorry for what happened after the frat party._

_Can you please stop ignoring me? It fuckin’ sucks, and I miss you_.  

Your heart almost stopped when you read the message. Nausea churned your stomach as you finally opened the message. You were just about to type out your own response when your phone rang. You stepped out of your room for a moment, not wanting to bother Nat.

“Steve? Why are you calling?”

“I saw that you opened my message, so you had to answer this call. You still have read receipts.”

“Whatever. What do you want?”

“You.”

“Call Jennifer or whoever else you’re fucking. I am not a late-night booty call.”

“No, no, Y/N, just wait a minute!” He sighed into the phone. “I… I didn’t mean it like that. I mean it when I said I want you, but I just wish you were here.  **I hate being in my bed. It’s better with you in it.**

"Steve…”

“I thought you liked me.”

“God, Rogers, just please don’t do this. Don’t make me say it.”

“I want to be with you. I know you want me. Come on, doll. Say you’ll be with me.”

You were fed up with him. “You only want me because you’re bored with Jennifer, Jessica, or whatever her name is this week. You have a track record you know. I know who you are, just quit it. You don’t actually want me.”

The silence was deafening. Steve’s stomach dropped as he remembered many girls that he’d hooked up with in the weeks prior before studying with you.

“ _That’s_ what you think? Listen, if you only knew—”

“I don’t wanna know. Goodnight, Steve.”

“Y/N—”

Steve groaned as the call ended. In the living room of the suite, Bucky and Sam were playing video games. He plopped next to them on the couch.

“She hung up on me.”

Bucky scoffed. “There’ll always be a new one. You’ll be fine. You’re the fuckin’ quarterback.”

Steve shoved him. “I don’t want another one, you jackass. I wanted her.”

“Rogers, you’ve gone soft,” Sam teased, ducking to avoid the pillow Steve threw at him.

“You idiots will never know what I’m talking about if you keep sitting on your asses all day with that stupid game,” Steve muttered.  

“If you want her, why are you here?” Bucky asked. “You’re here, sitting on your ass with us, and she might be taking the time to cry on some other guy’s shoulder.”

Steve contemplated this idea; he knew you’d be furious for showing up at your dorm at three in the morning. You had early classes and a shift at the library, and God knows that if he screwed this up, he’d really be a goner. His mind was made up. He had to get to you.

“Buck, I’m taking the Jeep.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get the hell outta here, lover boy, go get the girl.”

~

Steve should have brought an umbrella. It was pouring like hell, and the pathetic flowers he picked up at the convenience store looked even sadder as the downpour ruined them. He probably looked just as pathetic—he could feel the water dripping down his eyebrows and soaking into his skin.  

He didn’t care. He needed to make it up to you.  

And there he was, shivering like a fool in the east wing of Edward Hall. He’d been standing at your door for ten minutes, and his initial hope quickly faded as no one answered the door. Even after a couple calls to your cell phone, he knew it was over. Exhausted from running around and getting caught in the rain, he sat down next to your doormat. He decided to close his eyes for just a moment, but the fatigue finally took over.

Later that morning, you finally woke up, frowning as you saw more missed calls and texts from Steve. You prepared yourself for your morning routine, but you were prepared to find yourself tripping over Steve on the way to the showers. He was fast asleep, slumped over like he’d been there for hours. He jolted awake as you tripped over his feet.

“What the—”

A smile lit up his face. “Y/N!”

“Steve?” You stood up. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I needed to talk to you last night, but you didn’t answer the door!” Steve replied, quickly growing redder by the second. “I—I was exhausted after going to every convenience store within twenty fucking miles of this university—”

“You are such an idiot,” you groaned.

He stood up, meeting your gaze and offering the horrendous yellow flowers, which looked quite defeated after the downpour and being crushed by your fall. Another sheepish smile.

“I got you flowers.”

You dragged him into your door, peeling off his damp varsity jacket. After rummaging through your closet, you threw an oversized hoodie and sweatpants at him. He grinned as he looked at the hoodie.

“A One Direction hoodie?”

“You wanna stay in soaked clothes and get sick, be my guest. If not, you suffer with Harry Styles.”

He chuckled. “You are not a morning person, are you?”

“Just get changed and go to class. I need to shower.”

“Y/N…”

“I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to be another girl that you add to the list. I liked you Steve, but—”

Another smile, it was enough to pull on your heart despite your anger. “You liked me?”

You couldn’t help but snort. “We…we almost had sex. In your dorm. Last night. What was in your weed and alcohol last night, pal?”

Steve set the flowers down on your desk, pulling you in by your waist. You were suddenly horrified by the realization that you hadn’t brushed your teeth yet and your hair probably looked like a nightmare. He looked down at you, giving you another heart-wrenching smile; you were like putty in his hands. It took every muscle in your body to keep your hands from running through his hair again and pulling those cherry red lips to yours.

“I need to go. I… I’ll be at the library tonight.”

“Yeah?” A mischievous look flashed in his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m working the front desk so…I guess if someone wanted to talk to me, I wouldn’t be able to leave. I’d have to stay at the desk.”

“That’s perfect. Good to know.”

You rolled your eyes as he quickly changed and threw on the ridiculous boyband sweater and ran out the door with his damp clothing. He winked before running out the door and catching the eyes of the girls leaving Edward Hall that morning. Nat finally emerged from her room, glancing down at the miserable flowers that Steve left behind.

“Morning, Nat.”

She threw her arm around your shoulder. “You are  _so_ hot for Steve Rogers. It’s so sad.”

You groaned. “I know.”

~

The library was quiet that evening. You had taken the late shift, so the usual rowdy crowds that came after dinner trickled down to the usual study groups that stayed quiet until midnight, when the front desk finally closed. You were just about to lock up the front desk drawers when a familiar blonde showed up at the desk.  

Steve held up beautiful pink roses. “I went to the store early this time.”

“Who are they for?” You asked coolly.  

“Only the smartest and most beautiful girl at this university,” Steve said, raising his eyebrows.

You scoffed. “You say that to all the girls around here?”

“Only you.”

You took his hand. “Only me? Nobody else?”

He nodded, inching closer over the desk. “You’re the one I want.”

“Promise?” You whispered.

“Cross my heart.”

“Say it, then.” You squeezed his hand. “Say that you’re mine.”

“There’s nobody else I want. I’m all yours for the taking, just say the word, doll. I’m yours.”

You giggled and grabbed him by the shirt color, bringing his lips to yours. Steve let out a soft sigh as you kissed him, his heart soared to feel you chuckling into his lips. He rested his forehead against yours and sighed.

“I’m yours.”

“You said that already.”

“I know, but I want to keep saying it. I love being yours.”


	5. July 4th, 1918

One hundred.  

Steve hated hearing those two words.  

_One hundred._

Last year, when Steve had turned ninety-nine, Tony was already talking about the next extravagant party he would throw when the day finally came. That’s how Tony was, sitting at his current party while planning for another that was a year away.  

Steve didn’t mean to ruin the fun. It was a great party, really. Guests from all over the world, wonderful entertainment, decadent food, fireworks, of course—Tony knew how to throw a great party.  

Ninety-nine. 

No one else in the room was remotely close to that age. No one really seemed to care that the flashy party was a little too uncomfortable for him, and that he’d rather be watching fireworks instead of sitting in a room with guests and a ridiculous tuxedo that didn’t fit him right.  No one else seemed to care that maybe, he didn’t enjoy the fact that was turning ninety-nine when his oldest friends in this century hadn’t even turned fifty yet.  

Almost no one noticed that he had left his own birthday party.  

Except for her.  

She had just started working for Tony’s company last year. After getting out of college and working temp jobs for a few years, she was ecstatic that she would be working at the tower. Normally, she wouldn’t have been too thrilled about being a personal assistant, but she wasn’t complaining when she found out she’d working for the Tony Stark.

On the night of Steve’s ninety-ninth birthday, Tony had invited her to the party, insisting that she hang out with the team, and, as he said, “go on and have some fun for once, kiddo.”  

She definitely did have fun—Tony Stark knew how to throw a party, and he never let anyone forget that. After expensive champagne and dancing that left her feet with blisters, it was finally getting late, and she was stepping out of the doors when she found a familiar blonde sitting in the empty lobby. Her heart nearly skipped a beat to find herself alone with Steve Rogers.  

She’d only interacted with him in the presence of Tony, and she was always saved by her boss before she had the chance to do or say anything embarrassing. Now that she caught this man alone and looking rather upset, she took breath and prayed to not make a fool of herself in front of America’s hero.  

“Happy birthday, Captain Rogers,” she said, taking a seat next to him.

He cracked a small smile. “You can call me Steve, you know. I tell you every time I see you.”

“I know, but you’re _Captain America_. I think any other greeting is like, treason or something.”

This drew a laugh out of him, and her heart fluttered again. The light in his smile quickly dimmed as he realized that was the first time he felt happy all day. Awkward silence hung in the air before she realized that it was late, and he was alone in the lobby on his birthday.

“Why aren’t you upstairs?” she asked. “Mr. Stark said that the party goes on ‘til midnight. That’s when they’re shooting the fireworks.”

He shook his head and sighed. “I…I can’t go back up there.”

“What, you don’t like birthday parties?”

“I liked birthdays before I woke up and realized I missed nearly seventy of them.” 

More silence. Her heart ached to see the broken look on Steve’s face as he looked out the windows of the lobby. An idea popped into her mind, and she rested a hand on his. The smile returned as he turned to face her again. If only she knew how fast his heart was racing.  

“Tell you what,” she began, “I bet that I can get you to love your birthday again. Mr. Stark couldn’t even dream of topping my ideas.”

Steve smirked. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep. You’re going to love it. I promise.”

~

A year later.  

July 2nd, 2018.  

Steve hates that it’s 2018, he hates that he was born a century ago.  

A century. It’s been so long. A goddamn century.  

The only thing that lifts Steve’s spirts is her. He doesn’t mean to be a grumbling old man (like Tony claims that he is) it’s just that everyone in the towers seems to mention that number, that phrase, over and over again.

One hundred.  _A century._

With her, he forgets. He forgets that he’s a century old and that there’s an exhibit in the Smithsonian for him because  _that’s_ how old he is. He forgets that many of the people he loved are gone, and how the friends he currently has, while equally as wonderful and supportive, will never understand what he’s going through. Sure, he has Bucky, but he doesn’t want to talk about this stuff with him. They’ve endured enough for a lifetime—there’s no need to relive it.  

In the past year, she’s gotten to know Steve as she works more closely with the Avengers. Tony has her running his laboratory, conducting experiments and ensuring the team’s safety as they go about their missions. The towers’ atmosphere completely changes when she arrives for work—it was unspoken, but she was part of the team.  

It was two days before his dreaded birthday, and Steve tried to let off steam while training with Sam. He didn’t realize how hard he was hitting the punching bag until it hits the floor and explodes in front of her as she goes in to check on them. Steve’s gaze shifted to meet hers, and a smile immediately spread across his face. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sam, who was chuckling to see the super soldier with rosy cheeks.  

“Someone’s happy to see you,” Sam retorted, laughing as Steve glared at him.  

She ignored this, blaming the reddening cheeks on the day’s training. “I’ve ordered so many punching bags for you, Rogers, they’re gonna start to think Mr. Stark’s hoarding them or something.”

Steve smiled. “I’ll try to be more careful next time. I’ll see you after training?”

It took everything in her body not to bite her lip in pure excitement to hear him ask about seeing her later. “O-of course, Captain.”

He chuckled. “Steve, please. I’m not going to ask you again, Y/N.”

“Okay, Steve.”

He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding in his chest. The way she said his name, the way she smiled back at him, it only added to the warmth spreading through his body. Sam, who could only watch from the other side of the gym, rolled his eyes and clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  

“Alright, now, we need you out of here. Captain Heart Eyes and I need to get back to training.”

Steve cleared his throat, sending another (and rather adorable) glare to his training partner, who was already laughing to see her running out the gym doors. Without another word, she was back in the laboratory, meeting Tony to continue the research he was doing. When Tony was home, she was left to other duties like experiment prep, or filing away old blueprints in Tony’s archive. She had finished most of it that morning, and she spent the rest of the afternoon planning out Steve’s birthday.  

Tony glanced at her, smirking as he saw her journal open and papers laying all around her work area in the lab. Her various scribbles over the last few months have transformed into several pages worth of ideas for the big day.  

“Looks like your boyfriend is going to have a great birthday.”

She spun around, letting out a squeaky laugh. “I’m not—Steve is  _not_ my boyfriend.”

“I’ve known you for over a year now,” Tony began, pausing his work, “you two are always together. He’s the only one in the Towers who’s cheery in the mornings, and it's  _not_ the coffee you’re making that’s putting a smile on his face.” 

She turned back to her notebook, pushing away any thoughts of Steve returning her affections. “Mr. Stark, I’m just doing something nice for Captain Rogers.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo.”

~

July 4th, 2018.  

Steve laid in bed, dreading whatever the team might have had planned for today. Suddenly, he remembered the promise she made him a year ago.

The thought of her brought a smile to his face. He knew it was far too early for her to be at the Towers already, but part of him wished that she was there with him to watch the sunrise from his room.

Much to his surprise, Steve found her in the kitchen, flipping pancakes. Eggs and potatoes were already made, and colorful fruit was chopped and arranged beautifully on the table. Another rush of affection coursed through him as she smiled and plated his breakfast.  

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said softly as he sat down. “I know Tony has you in so early, and now you’re in doing this—”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, “It’s your birthday!”

He sighed. “I know, I know, but I—”

“Don’t wanna make a fuss. I know that, but let me do something nice for you. I wanted to do this. I’m keeping my promise from last year, remember?”

Steve couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering as she rested her hand on his again. He could only nod and smile as they both finished breakfast.  

Even though it was a national holiday, there was still work to be done in the laboratory and for the company. She planned for this, knowing that Tony relied on her to keep things running smoothly. Steve laughed upon seeing the movie set up she had made in the laboratory with blankets, junk food, and various DVDs spread across the tables. She had spent that early morning pushing couches, pillows, and blankets together to create the ultimate fort.

“I couldn’t get out of working on your birthday, but I still wanted you to enjoy your  _casual_  birthday,” she explained, smirking on the word, “so, while you wait, I’ve got a ton of movies that I didn’t want you to miss out on. I was going to bring it all to your room, but I thought watching movies in the lab would be fun. We’d get to be together.”

 _Together_.  

The way the word came out of her mouth with ease brought a smile to his lips. Suddenly, he felt himself blushing, and he mumbled an embarrassed 'thank you’ and settled into the couches. With all the work she had to do, they knocked out all the  _Harry Potter_  movies, and she loved the fact that Steve was just as enthralled about the series as she was. She even joined him after a while, settling into the couches next to him and sharing a blanket. Steve tried to control his damned blushing as she leaned into him, excitedly pointing out to the screens and reminding him to pay attention. He tried to pay attention, he really did—all he could focus on was that they were  _together_. 

After  _the Deathly Hallows,_  the sun was beginning to set. She stood up and reached for his hand. “Come on, Rogers, your birthday isn’t over yet.”

The next stop was in Brooklyn, and Steve’s eyes widened as she pulled into Kellog’s Diner. The vintage neon signs lit up his face, and her heart fluttered to see the wonderful smile on his face. He was still in disbelief as they both sat down in the booth together.  

“This place is still open?!”

She smiled. “I did my research on restaurants that have been around since the forties. A lot of them were renovated or changed, but this is one of the few that kept a lot of things the same.”

“This is amazing,” Steve said as he bit into his burger, “God, Buck and I, we’d save our money for weeks just to come here and get the best burgers in town.”

They happily feasted on greasy diner food, enjoying each other’s company and taking cheesy photos of the vintage restaurant. In one of the photos, Steve had put his arm around her, bringing their cheeks pressed against each other. It looked something out of a ridiculous Hallmark movie, but Steve didn’t care. He was with her.  

“We look good together, don’t we?” Steve asked cautiously, glancing at her. The words sounded smoother in his mind, but it wasn’t so suave when he finally said it.

She smiled anyway. “I guess we do.”

After more silly pictures and the store manager begging for pictures with the famous Avenger, she took Steve to one last stop before the final birthday treat.  

“Eddie’s Sweet Shop!”

She beamed as she opened the doors for him. “I made sure to do my homework.”

He glanced down at her, taking her hand as he surveyed the decadent treats that lined the counter. “You are amazing, you know that? This is insane—this is one of the best birthdays ever.”

It was as if Steve was a ten-year-old boy again, marveling at the variation of candy that stood before him. He felt silly for filling up a bag of candy so quickly, but he didn’t care.  

“It’s been ages since I’ve been here,” Steve said, “I didn’t think—I never think that these places are open. I thought everything was gone. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“It’s nothing, Cap. Hurry up with the candy, we’ve got one more stop.”

As they stopped at the docks in Brooklyn, Steve made a face. She smirked, waiting expectantly in front of the boat. “You comin’ or what?”

“You know how to sail?”

“Hell no, Rogers,” she retorted, “I got someone driving the boat.”

“Thank God, because you just called it 'driving the boat’, and that does not comfort me as someone who is supposed to go in this boat with you.”

She rolled her eyes and took his hand. “Just get in.”

The rest of the team was on the boat as well, casually enjoying beers and getting ready for the boat to leave the docks. Steve grew slightly worried as he saw everyone—he was hoping that this night would only be spent with her. She noticed the grimace and nudged his arm, smirking at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s still casual, like you asked,” she said quietly, “I wanted everyone be to together on your birthday.  We’ve got drinks, music, some food—but it’s just us.”

“I wanted it to be just be you and me.”

The words hung in the air awkwardly, and she tried to hide her face while she grabbed a couple of bottles from the cooler. His stomach dropped as she remained silent. She forced a smile and handed him a drink. Just as she gave him the drink, soft jazz music echoed. Steve raised his eyebrow and held out his hand.

“Will you let me have this dance?”

He was standing there looking, looking beautiful in the evening light of the moon and his eyes twinkling just as bright as the stars—how could she ever say no?

Her hand slipped into his, and she looked up at him as his other hand found her waist. The two swayed to the music; she giggled as he lifted her hand, twirling her around gently. After she returned, he pulled she body against his, leaving her breathless.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” Steve said quietly, “do you dance like this with all the fellas lining up and chasing after you?”

She scoffed. “There is no line, trust me. And if they’re chasing something, it ain’t me.”

Steve stopped in his tracks. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m being serious!” She laughed to see his expression of disbelief, pulling him back to the rhythm of the song. “I never have time anyway, I’ve got Stark working nonstop, and I’m right there with him.”

He twirled her again, pulling her close to his chest. “You know, I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“Y-you don’t mean that,” she stuttered stupidly, “I mean if you do, that’s, God that’s insane, but you don’t—not me—definitely not someone like me—"

Steve chuckled softly. “I do mean it. If it means we get to spend every moment together one day, I wouldn’t mind waiting.”

She blinked incredulously and he laughed again. “You know, this whole deer-in-headlights thing has always been so…I liked it. I always loved when Tony brought you to the Towers.”

Suddenly, she was mortified. “Oh, Steve, that is so embarrassing. Even if you thought it was cute, just please, please spare me—”

He sat her down at the table where the drinks were, sitting down next to her as he held her hands. “It’s not embarrassing. You were so sweet and shy, I couldn’t get you out of my head the first day I met you.”

She hid her face in her hands, remembering her first day of work.

_Tony nudged her out of her thoughts. “No need to be nervous, kid. They’ll love ya, just take a breath.”_

_She tried to take a breath; a weird, breathy giggle escaped her lips when she locked eyes with none other than the famous first Avenger, Steve Rogers. He was standing in the kitchen, fumbling with the coffee maker, but he paused his tinkering to give her a warm smile. It was like her heart fell out at her feet—his eyes, the chiseled features and the heart wrenching smile. Shit._

_“Good morning. You must be Y/N. Tony’s been talking about you for a while. I’m—”_

_“Captain Steve Rogers,” she finished, “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, but you—you already knew that, it just felt right to introduce myself—I—”_

_Tony chuckled and rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s her first day, Rogers, quit scaring her.”_

_She closed her eyes and finally took a real breath. Thank God for Tony, otherwise she would have continued making a complete fool of herself in front of Captain fuckin’ America._

_Steve laughed. “Don’t mean to scare you. I guess I just need to get some coffee.”_

_She glanced at the coffee maker. “I have the same one at my apartment. I—I can help you make some coffee, sir.”_

_He took a step aside, letting her handle the finicky machine. In a matter of seconds, the dark roast was pouring smoothly into a mug. Steve laughed in disbelief._

_“It was taking me ages to fix the machine!”_

_“I insisted that we get Starbucks for everyone, but the old man won’t listen,” Tony retorted._

_“You also could have just helped me with it,” Steve muttered, “Aren’t you always going on about being the only genius in the towers?”_

_She smiled and poured Steve some creamer, but her attempt to be smooth with the bottle didn’t end well as the mug overflowed with the liquid._

_“Oh, I’m sorry—let me just—"_

_They both bent down to clean the mess that had dripped to the floor and knocked foreheads in the process. His face was dangerously close to hers; the gentle grin on his face nearly knocked the wind out of her lungs. She glanced back down at the mess she had made with the creamer. Just when she thought she wouldn’t make a fool of herself, she still managed to do so._

_“No worries. I can clean up.” He took her hand and helped her up._

_“I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, sir.” Her face was hot with embarrassment._

_“You don’t have to worry, Y/N. And please, call me Steve.”_

_She sighed. “Alright, sir. I mean—Steve.”_

_Before she could bid him a proper goodbye, Tony was calling her to his office and showing her around the rest of the compound. All she could do was smile over her shoulder as she followed Tony. Steve chuckled into his mug, so consumed with thoughts of her that he burned his tongue on the fresh coffee._

“ _That’s_ your favorite memory of me?!” she exclaimed, groaning in embarrassment.

“Yep.”

“Can we change it to a different one?”

“Nope. That’s the one I picked. I love it, and it’s not changing.”

She hid miserably behind her hands again, eliciting a wonderful chuckle from the super soldier. He pulled her hands away, threading his fingers with hers. “Although, I think today might be my second favorite memory with you.”  

Her heart was racing. She had ached for him for nearly a year, and finding out that he felt the same way had her head spinning. “I—I can’t believe this.”

Steve’s brows furrowed together in concern. “What?”

“You. You’re you, America’s golden boy, and I'm—I’m just—I’m no one—”

He took both of her hands and squeezed gently. “How could you say that? Doll, you are  _everything_.”  

 _Shit,_  Steve thought to himself,  _there is no taking that back now._

It was finally Steve’s turn to become the flustered, babbling mess. His cheeks burned an adorable pink shade, and suddenly, she didn’t feel so embarrassed. Feeling a little bolder, she moved closer to him at the table, bringing their faces closer together. Steve’s heart was already pounding, and he swore that his was about to fall out of his chest. It was now or never.

“You are like a ray of sunshine after a lifetime of rain,” he confessed, “Before you, I was just a grumpy old man living in a world that was just confusing the hell out of me. Sure, I have Buck, the rest of the team is great—but I was just…lost.”

“Then you come out of nowhere and change my whole life with a cup of coffee,” Steve continued. “You make everything better, I just—every time I have a horrible day, you’re the one I want to talk to. I can’t imagine what I’d doing right now if you didn’t talk into my life and spill coffee creamer everywhere.”

He smiled upon hearing her groan again, hiding her face against his shoulder. A strong arm wrapped around her, and she sighed.

“I hate that one of my most embarrassing moments is your favorite one of me.”

He chuckled. “Maybe we can make a new memory.”  

They were both finally sitting up, facing each other. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the pounding in her ears. The smile on his face was enough to make her stomach flop and her heart flutter all at once.

“What, my birthday plans for you weren’t enough?”  

Steve smirked and tucked her hair behind her ear; the simple touch sent shivers down her spine. “It’s been great so far, but I’m hoping for one more birthday surprise…”

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, hands on her cheeks; she hummed in surprise as she moved her lips with his. Every second that her lips were on his was like heaven, and they barely stopped for air until loud cracking and wailing sounded in the distance. Across the docks, fireworks are shooting off, sending a wonderful glow across the water.  

She smiled at him. “Happy birthday, Steve.”

He gently pressed his lips against hers. “You made it happy. This was the best birthday ever.”


	6. Sleepy Sunday

“Daddy. Daddy, wake up.”

Steve stirs a little. “Grant, buddy…ask Mama.”

Next to him, she groans. “No, no, ask Daddy.”

Grant giggles softly, curling up next to her mother. “Mama!”

She sighs, taking the child into her arms, eyes still closed. “Give Mama five more minutes, baby, please.”

Steve turns over now, wrapping his arms over both of them. He presses his lips onto the back of his wife’s head and sighs.

“Morning.”

Grant is sitting up now, poking Steve’s cheek repeatedly. “Daddy. It’s time to wake up.”

“See, Grant, Mama makes the rules, and she’s still sleeping. So, we sleep until she wakes up.”

Grant is confused by this for a moment, and he looks curiously at his mother as she chuckles a little even though her eyes are still closed. He returns to his place between his mother’s arms, squirming for a moment before finally getting comfortable.

Steve’s hand reaches over his wife and down to Grant’s hands. The child takes his father’s fingers, gripping them tightly before quickly settling back to sleep. 

It’s perfect, leaning against his wife and holding his son’s hand. He nuzzles against her neck, breathing in the soft coconut scent in her hair. He smiles upon remembering it, knowing that he stood in the shower with her earlier that morning.

Grant’s grip on his fingers loosens, and Steve can’t help but smile. Whenever the three of them are together in bed, the boy falls asleep almost instantly. 

He was an angel; he still is. It was almost as if the universe knew how terrified Steve was to raise his first child, so they blessed him with an actual angel. Never a fussy baby, perfectly sweet despite the usual terror that was supposed to arrive during his toddler years. 

He owes it all to his wife. Without her, he would be a mess. Of course, Grant was a wonderful kid, but Steve didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. Sure, he babysat for the Bartons before, but he never experienced the nitty gritty stuff. Waking up at every two hours for feeding, and then staying up to lull the baby back to bed after a meltdown that often follows having a wet diaper.

Once Steve got the hang of it, he was a natural. She often teased him that he was a better mother than she was; Steve always knew how to deal with Grant’s emotions before she ever could. Within minutes, Grant was giggling and babbling happily in Steve’s arms, leaving her astounded.

“He came from me, and I don’t even know how to tell what he needs,” she groaned in frustration, “how did you become the baby whisperer?”

He laughed, kissing her cheek gently before handing Grant back to her for feeding. “Sorry, honey. I guess he just likes me more now.”

She rolled her eyes, but she still smiled. Her boys were perfect.

And it’s perfect right now, as she’s starting to wake up again and feels Steve’s head nestled in her hair. Grant is in front of her, breathing steadily and barely hanging on to Steve’s hand. She presses her lips to Grant’s head, who only sighs in response. Her hands find Steve’s hair, and she runs her fingers through the golden strands. He stirs again, and he releases his hand from Grant’s grip and brings his arm around her waist.

“Good morning,” she whispers, turning her head to meet his lips.

He hums softly. “It’s a very good morning now.”

Grant is awake now too, unable to stay asleep even though Steve speaks barely above a whisper. He crawls out from his mother’s arms and instead squishes himself right between his parents, curling up against Steve’s chest. He instinctively curls his arm around the child, pressing his lips to Grant’s forehead. A small smile spreads across Grant’s face, and her heart soars at the sight.

“I love you,” she says softly, “I love you very much.”

“Love you, momma,” Grant slurs, reaching over to hold her hand.

“Yeah, we love you, Mama,” Steve repeats, looking up at her and smiling. “We love you very much.”

And her heart is  _melting_  now, seeing her boys with mussed hair and sleepy eyes curled up together. It doesn’t even matter that it’s far too early on a Sunday morning to be awake, she’s glad that she’s awake to see them like this.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Steve’s voice pulls her out her reverie. The sun peeks out from the curtain behind him, creating a halo behind the golden strands. She smiles. 

“Just feeling really lucky, I guess.” Her grip around Grant tightens a little, much to the child’s amusement. 

Steve reaches over to the pull the two of them closer, and Grant giggles. “Daddy, I’m squished!”

“Yeah, well. I like squishing you. You’re stuck here, kiddo.”

Grant giggles again before burrowing under the sheets, happily sighing and closing his eyes again. She follows his lead, pressing her lips to Steve’s before slipping back to sleep. 

It’s far too early on a Sunday morning to be awake, but it’s perfect. His son is an angel, the woman of his dreams is heavenly, and finally, Steve’s life is perfect.


	7. Bake Sale Blues

Grant barrels through the front door excitedly, and his exhausted mother chases him in the house, breathless from running with him down the street. When she finally catches up to him, Grant is giggling hysterically, pushing away his mother as she presses her lips to his cheeks. 

Steve hears the commotion in the foyer and immediately leaves his office, opening his arms wide for Grant. The little boy laughs in delight as he jumps into his father’s strong arms. Steve holds up the child in one arm and pulls in his wife for a hug with the other.

“How was everyone’s day?” Steve asks, setting Grant down.

“Grant and I just did a little cardio on the way in,” she replies breathlessly, “I’ve done more running on the way back from the bus stop than I have in months.”

Steve laughs and glances back down at the boy. “Atta boy.”

Grant grins and quickly rummages through his backpack, handing his mother a colorful flyer. “Miss Adler gave us this before we got on the bus. Said it was for you guys.”

The couple examines the flyer, and she immediately frowns upon reading the information.

“A  _bake sale?”_

Steve nudges her a little. “C’mon, doll, what’s so wrong with a bake sale? It said they’re raising money for the library!”

“These women at the PTA are always having fundraisers,” she says with a sigh, “they’ve been hounding me to go to meetings, but I can never go.”

“I can go.”

She smirks. “That’ll be something, wont it? I can see the headlines now:  _Captain America: Superhero, PTA Mom_. They are going to eat you up, Steve.”

The women at the PTA absolutely  _adore_ Steve, and the poor man can only nod politely in slight embarrassment as they fawn over him during the entirety of the meeting. Also, being the gentleman he is, he simply cannot say say no when he’s asked to take care of a majority of the baking for that weekend.

Of course, when Steve comes home, arms full of baking ingredients, she can only laugh when she sees him.

“I told you. Those PTA moms are ruthless.”

He sighs, setting down the groceries on the table. “Laugh all you want, but I can do this. Grant and I are going to bake the best brownies, cupcakes, and cookies in the world, and you aren’t going to have any.”

“Keep that attitude up and you aren’t getting anything from me either,” she whispers in his ear, giggling when Steve turns pink.

Grant is running around the kitchen now, and she presses her lips on Steve’s jaw quickly before scooping the boy into her her arms. Steve’s red now, and he can only shoot her a silent glare while she holds Grant.

“I can’t wait to see what you guys bake today!” she says, kissing the boy’s cheek. “Make sure Daddy doesn’t set the house on fire. You can always page me at the hospital, but call Uncle Tony if I don’t answer, okay?”

“Don’t listen to your mother, she just likes being mean to me,” Steve snaps back, trying to hide the laughter in his voice. 

“Be good, you two. I want the house in one piece when I get back.”

Grant stands on a step stool next to his father, who claps his hands together excitedly.

“Are you ready, buddy?”

The young boy fiddles with his apron. “Honestly, Daddy…I don’t know.” 

“Oh, come on, Grant! You don’t have faith in me?”

“I have faith in when  _Mommy_ is around. You never cook by yourself.”

“Well, we are going to start off with the best brownies in  _history_ ,” Steve says, grabbing the bag of flour, “let’s get cooking, bud.”

It starts off well at first. They follow a bit of a system, with Steve reading the recipes and Grant trying his best to carefully measure out the ingredients. The brownies are easier to put together, and the cake pops prove to be rather difficult to assemble as Steve realizes there isn’t enough frosting to keep the shape. The cookies are okay, but only a few are salvageable due to many of them getting burnt.

There’s another major mishap when Steve is melting butter on the stove and accidentally leaves the oven mitt too close to the burner, and the blaring alarm startles both the Rogers boys out of their system. The incessant noise continues as Steve’s cellphone rings. He’s thrown the flaming mitt into the sink and waves a rag near the smoke detector, desperately trying to stop the alarm.

“Grant, my phone! Before you answer it, can you—”

Steve’s eyes widen to see that Grant has already answered the phone, one hand pressed to one ear to better hear his mother.

“Hi Mommy! No, everything is fine! Nothing is on fire we’re actually, um…we’re listening to really loud music?”

There is loud, unintelligible shouting on the other end, and Grant sheepishly hands the phone over to his father. “She’s not happy.”

He sighs and takes the phone to his ear. “I have everything under control, Grant is safe, I—”

“Steven, please quit it with the baking! Tell you what— they’ve got Dr. Cho here on call, I’m coming home to help. I’ll be there in an hour or two after they discharge this patient. I’ll take care of this bake sale situation.”

“Listen, honey, you don’t have to come back, everything is perfectly under control! The alarm just turned off, actually.”

“Um, Daddy?” Grant tugs on Steve’s apron. “The cupcakes are burning.”

Steve groans as he opens the oven, and the black smoke that emerges clouds his vision and sets off the alarm yet again. She’s yelling on the other end of the phone again, and Steve is frantically throwing the burning pan into the sink and dousing it in water. The alarm is blaring, the kitchen is a disaster, and amid the chaos, Grant is laughing.

“I told you we shouldn’t haven’t done this without Mommy.”

It’s finally the day of the bake sale, and the couple PTA mothers gather around the table that Steve has set up for their treats. Perfectly wrapped in patriotic-themed bags and topped off with ribbons, the baked goods that sit at the table look wonderful.

“Steve, this looks amazing! Did you and Grant bake these?” One of the women from the group stands a tiny bit close for Steve’s liking, and he can only laugh nervously in response. Grant looks curiously at his father, smirking as the women shamelessly overcrowd him.

“Yes, and his wife helped.” Steve relaxes when he hears her voice and feels her hand resting on his hip. “It’s always good to see you, ladies!”

The other PTA mothers offer weak smiles before turning around and continuing through the gymnasium towards other tables. She presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek.

“Tony’s chefs did a good job, didn’t they?”

“Be quiet, these moms are gonna kill me!” Steve laughs. 

“Oh, they’ll get over it,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Besides, people are buying them, they’re getting the money for the library.”

Grant stands before them at the table, collecting money from his friends and their parents as they buy the treats. The child is absolutely beaming as the goodies sell out fast, and she sighs, leaning against Steve.

“You did a good job, trying to help out. Emphasis on the word  _trying_ , here.”

He shakes his head and laughs. “It’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

She kisses his cheek. “You’re officially a PTA mom. You’re one of those people now. Before you know it, you’re gonna be a soccer mom who drives the whole team around and brings them to ice cream after games.”

“Yeah, yeah. But our son is happy, so I’m happy.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling now, too. “You are such a sappy old man.”

“Only for you and Grant.”


End file.
